Harry Potter and the Star Power Crystal
by Della Diaz
Summary: CH 5 IS NOW UP! If you open a closet door, expect to open up a can of worms on your way to the back walls. Please read and review!
1. Moo with me, everyone!

Harry looked around the compartment. It seemed to be filled with people who, while they looked about his age, were completely unfamilliar. He'd been going to go to school for five years, after all, and Harry reasoned that by now he should know the majority of his classmates, but none of these people looked like they'd been to Hogwarts before.  
  
Harry had thought he'd seen Ron and Hermione come into this compartment, but he must have been wrong, because they weren't there. There were, however, eight unusual, unique, and creative looking students. Harry looked at all of them very closely, because he was immediately fascinated by their appearances.  
  
Six of the eight were girls, and one immediately stuck out in particular. She was rather average looking, but almost from within her skin, there shined a beautiful, strange glow, an aura, if you will. Her petite bone structure was obvious under the baggy orangey-pink robes she wore. Indeed, they were nice robes. Despite the use of such normally clashing colours, they still were absolutely beautiful and complimented her hair, the colour of a night sky, beautifully. Her eyes were like stars, so beautifully grey were they. In truth, she was average in comparison to the others, but that was still a great deal better looking than most. This girl was holding a sweet, cuddly looking bunny and petting it softly.  
  
After gazing upon this tiny beauty for a few seconds, Harry turned to drink in the appearance of another girl. She was an exact opposite of the first. Her robes were very frilly and out of place on her lean, muscular body, but they still complimented her smooth, cocoa coloured skin and dark, almond shaped eyes. While the robes would lend a delicate look to anyone else, they made this girl appear even more tomboyish. Their silky material and soft, yellow colour was fitted for such an exotic creature. She held a broom--the Dragonflame, brand new and even faster than the Firebolt!--lazily in one hand, admiring its glossy greenish handle and "accidentally" hitting a boy in the head with it every once in a while.  
  
This boy took no notice of the hits, though. His soulful blue eyes were cast down towards a battered notebook spattered with--ugh, was that BLOOD?! He was a picturesque young man, with striking, stick-straight brown hair that fell to his shoulders. It was caught up in a loose ponytail, but a few strands had jumped free and hung rebelliously around his downturned face. He looked hard at work, holding a strangely coloured quill in his hand, positioned right above the paper. It was the colours of the earth, a beautiful tawny grey-brown, and it appeared to have come from a deadly-looking falcon perched upon his shoulder. His robes were elegant and stiffly pressed, very Victorian looking. They resembled Noyes' Highwayman's dress in colour, a tawny velvety sort of robe with a high bit of lace at his throat. He would have been fit to take tea with the best of society, though at the moment he looked too depressed to do anything except stare woefully at his notebook.  
  
Next to him was the only other boy, and while he also male, the similarities ended there. He was leaning jauntily on the seat, talking a mile a minute and petting a snake. His thick, sandy hair reminded Harry a bit of Seamus, except Seamus had never learned to make it fall so sexily across his forehead like this boy could...Harry mentally slapped himself and continued to observe. The skin of this young man was tanned. He looked like he walked off of Waikiki Beach after singing a few numbers with Mike, Carl, and the rest of the gang. His robes were in disarray and open at the collar. Their sky-blue colour matched his eyes perfectly.  
  
The person he spoke to looked fascinated by him. She was a thin, pale being who looked more like a spun-glass figurine than a human being. Her hair was an ethereal blonde, nearly white, or perhaps colourless, and it matched her ghostly skin, contrasted only by her wide, violet eyes. Her eyes were unnaturally intense, as well, and if she could burn things with them like that Muggle comic book character, the boy who wouldn't shut up would have some nice holes in his head at the moment. In her lap, she held a fishbowl with a cover very carefully, as if it might spill. Harry wasn't sure why, though, because it appeared to be completely empty except for water. Her robes matched the boy's. Harry wondered if they went to the same school.  
  
On the other side of the compartment, there were three more girls. Two were in a deep conversation. They kept waving their hands around in wild gestures. One girl was speaking very quietly except for when, at random intervals, she'd jump up and scream something that seemed very random to Harry's ears. He supposed it had something to do with their conversation, though. She'd sit back down and begin to talk very quietly again after that point. Her hair was a coppery auburn that fell down to her mid-back in soft, smooth curls. Not a single hair moved out of place as she stood up and down. It framed her face like a shining halo. Her eyes were sparkling and green, with delicate, long lashes. A dusting of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, giving her a sweet, country air to her. From where Harry stood, she smelled beautiful, like lilacs in May. Her robes were a deep, pine-green that hung elegantly off her shoulders.  
  
The girl she was talking with had the same dark green robes, and they looked as lovely on her. This girl was a bit shorter than the other one, but she was just as gorgeous. Her raven hair was tied in a French braid that fell past her knees. She was sitting on it. Weird, Harry thought, but beautiful nonetheless. Her eyes were clear and brown, framed by cute, tortoise-shell cat's-eye glasses. What Harry noticed immediately were her delicate, lily-white hands with beautifully manicured fingernails. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that in Harry's mind, but the last girl drew his attention.  
  
This girl had blonde hair, darker than the pale girl's but still very light. Her hair was thick and soft, in a cute shoulder-length cut. She had expressive blue eyes that seemed to slowly be changing colour. Her robes were that pinkish-orange again, but they looked magnificent on her. She was flipping through a YM magazine--so she was a Muggle, Harry guessed--and had a stack of other magazines next to her. They included Seventeen, Teen People, Cosmopolitan, and Witch Weekly, among others, but Harry's attention had been turned.  
  
He couldn't resist. He had to touch that broom. Harry softly lay a finger upon the very tip when the black girl holding it snapped her head up. She stood quickly, pushing him back a little, with an angry look upon her face.  
  
"What're you doin' with my broom?" she asked indignantly.  
  
"Just touching it," said Harry, looking shocked. No one had ever said something like this to him before. "It's really a great broom."  
  
"I knoooow that. So why you touchin' it? It ain't yours." The girl took a step forward.  
  
"I--I'm sorry," Harry said. "Look, we got off to a bad start. My name's Harry. What's yours?"  
  
"Bree. And that don't excuse you. Come up with a good reason for touchin' my broom or I'll stuff it up your--"  
  
"BREE!"  
  
"Oh, right. Well? I'm waitin'."  
  
"Umm...because I think you're sexy?" Harry guessed.  
  
This was NOT the right thing to say. She advance towards him, brow arched, hands in fists. Oops.  
~*~  
  
How do you like it so far? Review or we'll turn to booze! Thanks! 


	2. There is no Q in my name

"I mean it," she said. "Tell me why or you will die slowly and painfully."  
  
She sounded serious. Harry gulped and backed away.  
  
The last girl Harry had noticed, the one with huge French braid, stood and walked over to the very scary Bree and placed a delicate hand on her shoulder. Bree looked at her and sighed.  
  
"What, Mynta?" she asked, roughly brushing the hand away.  
  
"It's okay," Mynta said. "I'm sure he's sorry. Besides, you hexed that pale boy and if you do something like that again, the professors might get mad."  
  
"So?" Bree arched an eyebrow, unconvinced.  
  
"Well," said the raven-haired girl. "If you keep that up, you might get sent back to Miss Wincham's.   
  
Bree's smooth skin paled, but she acted calm. "Okay. I let you off easy today 'cause I'm nice. Next time you won't be as lucky, punk." She punched his shoulder and sat down.  
  
Harry felt strangely nervous around all these new people. "Umm...is it okay if I sit here?" he asked. "I thought my friends came in here, but I was wrong."  
  
"All right," Bree said, though reluctantly. She seemed to be the spokesperson for the strange little group. "Who're you, anyways?"  
  
"Oh. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."  
  
The eight pairs of eyes did the usual flick up to his scar and back. Bree nodded and stuck out her hand, which Harry took and shook. Everyone's names came out in a cacophony of sound.  
  
"Bree Jones."  
  
"Della Diaz."  
  
"Thom Asbury."  
  
"Glen LeBlanc."  
  
"Mynta Wynn."  
  
"Liana Castaneda."  
  
"Sharon Farley."  
  
"I hate myself and want to die."  
  
That last one came from the boy with the bloodsoaked paper. Della smacked him.  
  
"Don't mind him. He's always rather depressing. Tell him your name, Nene."  
  
'Nene' blushed and hissed, "Don't call me that. My name is Rene Hudson. Will you leave me to my writing now?"  
  
The other boy, the one called Thom, said, "Just leave him alone, Della. He's not going to be social no matter how much you try."  
  
Harry fell backwards as the train jerked into motion, half crushing poor little Mynta. Mynta had the unfortunate chance to be standing behind Harry, who was at least a head taller than her. He stood immediately, muttering apologies to the floor, but Mynta waved a hand at him.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'm all right." She smiled sweetly, tilting her head slightly to one side. For a moment, she was all Harry could see. There was something about her face that drew him to her.  
  
A tap on the shoulder from the auburn haired girl with the dark green robes snapped him out of it. "If you're done goggling at my friend, I'd like to finish my conversation with her." Seeing his somewhat blank look, she added, "Liana. Castaneda. Remember? I said my name, you fell backward and started checking Mynta out."  
  
Harry blushed bright red. "What? No I didn't. I don't check people out--not that I wouldn't check Mynta out--I MEAN not that she's not pretty or anything but really, I'm--oh, never mind."  
  
Mynta peered at him over her tortoise-shell glasses. "Stop while you're ahead."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Suddenly, the compartment door opened. Hermione and Ron fell in with a jolt of the train. They looked a bit embarrassed and stood up quickly.  
  
"Umm...hello," Hermione said. Ron echoed her and watched everyone wave.  
  
"Hi," said Harry. "You're probably wondering who all these people are."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Well, we're exchanges!" said Sharon, the girl with lovely grey eyes and midnight hair. "We're replacing students at your school for the year. Professor Dumbledore thought that it would be a good way to prove that we're not frightened of You-Know-Who, now that he's...you know..."  
  
"You know about You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, gaping at Sharon. "I thought everything was being covered up and stuff and how would you know and you know...who?"  
  
"It got out," said the girl with eyes that changed colour and robes like Sharon's. Harry thought her name was Glen, but he wasn't sure. "We know all about it. Dumbledore wants You-Know-Who to know that we aren't scraed of him, so he organized transfers."  
  
"Where are you all from?" asked Harry, taking a seat by Mynta.  
  
Hermione looked at them all carefully, also sitting down. "I used to have all of the schools memorized based off of their robes," she muttered, frowning. "I've forgotten them, though."  
  
"Well," said Glen, gesturing to herself and Sharon, "We're from the Salmon School of All-Purpose Magic. See? We have salmon coloured robes, which really sucks because I can NEVER match lipstick colours to these awful things. My full name is Glenda Alta LeBlanc, by the way. It means 'pure and good, high and white.' I can speak French AND English."  
  
"Your middle name is Alta? You never told me that," said Sharon. "Well, mine's Hope. My name means 'Princess hope of the fern-clearing'. I come from the same place, Salmon School for All-Purpose Magic."  
  
"Thom and I are from the Lancaster Academy of Sorcery," said Della proudly. Her eyes were bright violet with excitement and happiness. "My full name is Adele Cassandra Diaz, which means 'Noble, shining upon man'."  
  
"I don't have any middle names," said Thom. "I'm just Thomas Asbury of Lancaster."  
  
"You do so," Della said, sticking her tongue out at him. "Tell them."  
  
"No."  
  
"Fine. I will, then." Della turned to everyone and said in a stage-whisper, "His full name is Thomas Rapur Jebay Asbury. He doesn't like his name because Rapur is one letter away from 'raper'."  
  
Everyone laughed.  
  
"Well, anyway," said Mynta from her place between Harry and Liana, "I'm Amynta Hallie Wynn. My name means 'defender of the white hay-clearing'. Liana and I are from Greenbriar's Contemporary Academy Promoting Good Muggle-Wizard Relations of the Future. GCAPGMWR for short, or just G-Cap."  
  
"This Greenbriar names things like you, Mione," said Ron with a laugh. Hermione glared at him.  
  
"And I'm Juliana Natalie Castaneda," said Liana. "'Soft-haired child of Christmas Day'. I'm from G-Cap, too." She smiled sweetly.  
  
"Rene Terry Hudson," Rene muttered. "And my falcon, Apollinaire. Of Beauxbatons. Now leave me alone."  
  
Bree opened her mouth and out came an insane amount of syllables. "Jaibria Liarielle Migan Haideen Daah Jones at your service, Bree for short. I'm from Miss Wincham's Academy for Young and Proper Witches and I never want to go back."  
  
Hermione was amazed. "You have such cool names," she said. "I'm only Hermione Antigone Delilah Aurelia Heylie Anne Granger."  
  
"Really? I'm Harry McKennedy Potter," said Harry.  
  
"I thought your middle name was James, Harry," said Ron.  
  
"It was, but I thought McKennedy would be a MUCH kewler name than something so stupid like James," said Harry, because, y'know, your dead father's name is NEVER as cool as something like McKennedy. Unless his name was McKennedy, but in this case it wasn't and Harry was deeply scarred.  
  
"Well, I'm Ronald Charles Arthur Weasley," said Ron.  
  
"Are you all in 5th year?" asked Hermione, growing bored at the topic of names.  
  
"Yeah," the other students all said.  
  
"Hey look!" called Ron, who was lookeing out a window. "We're here!"  
A/N: What do you think? Review or we'll be sad and won't be able to write another chapter!  
  
Bree Jones  
Della Diaz  
  
"There is no Q in my name." 


	3. But there is an H

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to get out of the compartment. They all fell in the icky mud, because Ron was having trouble walking correctly. When they all stood up, their friends were mysteriously gone and the only carraige left had Neville in it.  
  
"I wonder where they went," Ron said.  
  
"They must have gone ahead," replied Hermione.  
  
Inside, Dumbledore said some random words and all the new students were brought out. Harry looked around, assuming that his new friends would be somewhere in the crowd of children, but they were nowhere to be seen. This confused him greatly and made him wish he could see M--all of them again.  
  
The sorting hat sang a song and everyone applauded politely, though they cringed inside to the ugliness. The students waited somewhat patiently while all the Jacks, Chloes, Sophies, and Daniels were sorted. In truth, it was very boring, but really, when isn't this boring when you're looking for the spiffy exchange students?  
  
When the stupid firsties were all sorted, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.  
  
"Ha--h'm," she said. "We have some other new students here, and they may come out now!" The last bit was directed towards the door.  
  
They shuffled in. Thom and Della were STILL talking, as were Liana and Mynta. Rene and Bree discussed the differences in raising falcons versus boa constrictors. Glen was painting her nails, and Sharon was petting something suspiciously fluffy in her purse.  
  
"Thank you. These are all exchange students from different parts of the world," Macgonagall said, "But mainly from America. The stupid Americans will agree to anything. Ahem. Anyway...We'll go in alphabetical order." She seemed proud of herself for thinking up this order.  
  
"Ashbury, Thomas Jebay Rapur," Magonagall said, pronouncing his name as "Ashbury, Tahmas Jay-bay Raper." Everyone laughed at the last bit.  
  
"Wait!" Thom yelled. "You didn't say it right!"  
  
"Of course I did," Micgonagall retorted. "The Magic Quill wrote it down this way. Blame the quill."  
  
"Your stupid Magic Quil is wrong!" Thom screamed. He pouted and returned his voice to a normal volume. "Number One: Take the H out of Ashbury and stick it in Thomas. Pronounce the freaking H. Number Two: It's Jebay. It's supposed to be French--"  
  
"It's not French, you pathetic excuse for a wizard," Rene hissed, loudly enough that everyone could hear him.  
  
"Number Three: Say that again, Hudson, I dare you," Thom taunted. "Number Four: It's rah-POOR, NOT RAPER!"  
  
Mkgonagall sighed. "All right, Asbury, Thomas Jebay Rapur. Will you come up here now?"  
  
"Number Five: It's Thom."  
  
"FINE. THOM. Get up here or Merlin help me I will take your wand and--"  
  
"WAIT!" This time it was the sorting hat. "I'm not ready! I need my dance!"  
  
"Your...dance," said Makgonagall. "Go ahead."  
  
THe sorting hat did its dance and sighed happily. "Ready now."  
  
Thom ran up and jammed the sorting hat on his head, even though the sorting hat was still kind of dancing a little.  
  
"Well, well, well," the sorting hat Said into his ear. "Let's see what we've got here. A love for--B-movies? Tarzan Goes to Hell, in particular? Earl Dittman? Indian food? You are a piece of work, indeed. You've got a great mind, but a lazy one. Well, that rules out Hufflepuff. Umm...What do you want?"  
  
"Something easy with Della."  
  
"All right. Hope she likes...GRIFYNDOR!"  
  
All the Gryfindores clapped, because they thought Thom was awesome. Harry, in particular, was looking forward to seeing his sandy blonde hair do the Beach-Boys surfer thing that was so, so sexy--oh, wait. Moving on now. Did not have that thought. Mcgngll, on the other hand, smacked her face and sighed.  
  
"Juliana Natalie Castaneda," Mcgonagil said. "I hope my pronounciation suits you?"  
  
"Yes, but I like to be called Liana, please," Liana said.  
  
"All right. Liana."  
  
Liana walked up carefully, trying not to trip over her green robes. The sorting hat settled around her and considered Liana.  
  
"Truly curious. You're a saucy one, aren't you? But you're always looking out for your friend Mynta. How sweet. And...hmm...such a love for flying! You're built for Quidditch, aren't you? Are you as good a keeper as you'd like to be? Well, you seem like the sort of girl who'd work at it. I hope this suits you. HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
Liana walked over calmly, with a wonderfully happy smile on her face. The Hufflepuffs catcalled her.  
  
"Diaz, Adele Cassandra," Mogonogel said.  
  
"Della, please," Della replied.  
  
"Della."  
  
Della walked primly up to the Sorting hat and immediately said hello when she put him on. Before she put him on, though, she rubbed her fish bowl for luck and handed it to Mcgonagall. "Hold my seamonkeys." Mcgonagall sighed.  
  
"Hmm...Deep loyalty to your friend, Thom, huh? But not willing to work. A quick mind, a daring love for a good Irish beer...Guinness, eh? Good taste. And ambition up the wazoo. Well, there's too much bravery here to ignore. I think you'll have to go in...GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Della's face was whiter than usual when she took off the hat, ignoring the cheers. "NOOOOOOOOO! I WANNA BE IN SLYTHERN!" she yelled. Turning her face to Thom's, she screamed, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't gone into Gryfndor, we could've been happy together in Slytherin! But nooo, you stupid piece of--"  
  
"DELLA!" McGonagall yelled, silencing the pale girl. "You will sit at your house immediately."  
  
Della did, though reluctantly, taking her seamonkeys with her and muttering violently to them.  
  
"Farley, Sharon Hope!" Mcgonagall called.  
  
Sharon didn't complain when her name was called, much to Mcgonagall's relief. She put the hat on and waited, still petting the furry thing in her purse.  
  
"How sweet. Such a love of animals. Average in everything, but..well, you love animals. And a passion for the colour red. You don't really fit in much of any house, but you're a bit of a moron, so we'll stick you in...HUFFLEPUF!"  
  
"Yay!" Sharon cried to the sounds of happy cheers. Everyone clapped nicely.  
  
"Hudson, Rene Terry," said Mcgonagall. She noted his falcon and prayed that she wouldn't be expected to hold it.  
  
Rene slouched over with Apollinaire on his shoulder. Linners decided, when the sorting hat was on Rene's head, to try and peck at it.  
  
"First of all, would you make your bird stop that?" the hat said irritably.  
  
Rene tapped Apollinaire's tail and the bird immediately ceased his vandalism of the hat.  
  
"Thank you. Well, you're certainly the quiet type," the hat mused. "You're ambitious though, with your writing, and you've got all those brains. Wow. Well, you're loyal to no one except your falcon. And...what's this? A secret love for daisies?"  
  
"I HAVE NOT!" Rene yelled, so loudly that everyone in the hall heard him and wondered what Rene didn't have.  
  
"Whatever you say. Carve some into the closet, okay? Make it look nicer than they normally do in...RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Everyone clapped at this, though the Ravenclaws looked a bit nervous at the prospect of such a strange fellow in their midst.  
  
"Jones, Jaibria Liarielle Migan Daah!" Mcgonagall said.  
  
Bree shook her head. "I ain't gone bother with correcting you," she said, flipping her long hair behind her shoulder. "But it's Bree."  
  
"Bree, then."  
  
Bree set the hat on her head and waited impatiently.  
  
"Well, then, you're certainly rather evil-seeming. You've got a lot of ambition to be a good Quidditch player, and you're fascinated by the Dark Arts, especially the voodoo you've been taught. Curious. And the leather fetish...an interesting touch. I think you'll thrive in...SYLTHERIN!"  
  
Everyone cheered. Della called, "I'll trade you, Bree!" but she didn't get what she wanted. Bree sauntered over and sat down at the table.  
  
"LeBlanc, Glenda Alta!" Mcgonagall called out.  
  
"Glen."  
  
"Glen."  
  
Glen waved her nails to dry and walked up to the sorting hat.  
  
"Well, you're certainly not very ambitious...all you want to be when you're older is married...but to someone rich. Not much bravery, either, and no brains to speak of. Well, you seem to work hard...as long as the task is fashion-related. Well, I'm not just a hat, you know. I can see slightly into the future, and yours tells me that it'll be best fulfilled if you're in...HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
Everyone clapped. Glen blew air-kisses to them and walked over to Hufflepuff.  
  
"Wynn, Amynta Hallie!" Mcgonagall said wearily. She was sick of yelling out names.  
  
"Mynta, if you please."  
  
"All right, Mynta."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Mynta walked to the sorting hat.  
  
"How interesting. You've got brains, and you've got loyalty, and you've got bravery, but you seem to be very ambitious. Will you ever stop working to make yourself perfect in every way? I think that your tragic past is fascinating, by the way. It might be dangerous for you, but it'll be best if you're in...SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Mynta quietly said thank you and walked to Slytherin's table. Harry watched her and wished silently that maybe she would reconsider and come sit by him.  
  
A/N: Hey! We're back with a third chapter already! Come on and review us!  
  
Bree Jones and Della Diaz 


	4. Ioan Gruffudd is sexy

Della wouldn't stop talking while everyone ate the delicious food. "So THEN we decided to watch The Horrifying Gods of the Old West, but Lola didn't want to let us so Thom and I decided to start singing "Lola" until she went away--"  
  
"What's "Lola"?" asked Hermione, listening with interest.  
  
"A really weird song about a crossdresser and this guy she--err, he--meets in a bar and ends up, err--fornicating with," said Seamus off-hand. He started to turn a little red when he said "fornicating".  
  
"What's fornicating?" asked Ron, who looked confused.  
  
"Look it up in the dictionary," Thom replied. "It's spelled S-E-X."  
  
Everyone laughed except Ron, who frowned, and Ginny, who turned a very bright red.  
  
From across the room, Rene noticed Ginny's face. He gazed at her a moment, and for a single nanosecond, his melancholy eyes held a strange sort of spark from within. Rene looked at her glowing orangey hair, her bright brown eyes, her clashing blush and mentally slapped himself. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I have Linners.'  
  
Then he was elbowed in the stomach by an Asian girl who was talking animatedly to Mynta. "So you're really from the States?" she asked. "That's so cool! Do you know the Moons?"  
  
"Yes," said Mynta. "Renata's in my grade, and Tacita's a bit younger. Do you know the Chongs?"  
  
"They're my cousins."  
  
"Really?" Mynta's eyes lit up in excitement. "They're my cousins, too. On my dad's side. That makes--"  
  
"Us! We're cousins? And we didn't know!" Cho laughed. "My dad's name is Fu. Is your dad Uncle Wei who changed his surname and moved away?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Mynta. "Daddy wanted to be taken seriously and he felt that with an English name like Wynn, he wouldn't be so discriminated against. He shouldn't have, though. I'd like to be Mynta Chang."  
  
Cho hugged her then, finally at peace with the thoughts of what happened to her uncle.  
  
Meanwhile, Bree had gotten into a heated debate with Draco Malfoy, who sat across from her. "What'choo MEAN? I ain't a mudblood, you dirty--"  
  
Draco looked rather ruffled. No one ever dared speak to him this way. This haughty little black girl, this ghetto trash was risking her life by insulting him. He figured he should go extra hard on her. "I am not a dirty anything," he said. "I'm very clean. And I least I speak proper English."  
  
"What'choo mean, I don't talk right?" Bree's chocolate brown eyes narrowed until they were little more than slightly-almond-shaped slits. "I talk just fine, not all high-and-mighty like you're on about--"  
  
"The King's English is not to be insulted!" yelled Draco. His usually sleek, pale hair was flying everywhere in his frustrations. "How DARE you?"  
  
Sharon laughed at this and petted her kitty. Little Buffie was meowing happily at all the yummy fish on her plate. Sharon picked up a sardine and waved it in front of Buffie, who opened her mouth immediately. Sharon dropped it in and giggled, looking across the room. For a moment, she caught the eyes of a boy with bright red hair and a rather large blush. Sharon blushed, too, and waved. He waved back.  
  
A success! Sharon continued to feed Buffie.  
  
Liana was picking at her food somewhat sadly. Why did she have to be seperated from her best friend? She'd be ever so lonely without Mynta. But before she could think more about her desolate situation, the headmaster stood up.  
  
"Hello," he said, "And welcome to our new year. You've already met our exchanges, of course, and I hope you will treat them with all the respect they deserve. I, for those who don't know, am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the school, and I must introduce the members of staff, for I'm sure you will be seeing a lot of them."  
  
"Oh, this is so exciting!" said Hannah Abbott to Glen. "We're getting a new Head of House, and I can't wait to find out who it is."  
  
"Was the old one hot?" Glen whispered, giggling.  
  
"Not at all. He was really old and short. I hope the new one looks nice, though!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
They both erupted into giggles.  
  
"Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," continued Dumbledore, "is not so new as he is returning. Please welcome back Professor Remus Lupin, who has graciously offered to be our only useful professor in the school after a breif hiatus!"  
  
Professor Lupin stood, his amber eyes shining in delight. His brown-anfd-gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail and someone had evidently taken pity on him and gotten him some new robes.  
  
Everyone cheered. Della leaned over to Thom and whispered, "He looks like he'd like "The New York Demons". Did you bring it?"  
  
"Yeah," Thom replied, holding up a tape.  
  
"Special wizarding version that won't blow up?"  
  
Thom nodded, and Della let out a squeaek of delight. This year was going to be fun!  
  
"Moreover, I'm sure you all have heard about poor Professor Flitwick's demise," said Dumbledore. "He was a victim of heightist bigots. We will all mourn his passing greatly, but in his honour, I have set up the Filius Flitwick Fund. It will give scholarships to opressed short wizards and witches everywhere."  
  
Bree's ears perked up. She certainly wasn't short, but her very little brother was and the Jones family dwas not exactly the Vanderbilts. It was nice to know that people could care for each other, despite differences in height.  
  
"I still think you're a trash talking ass, Malfoy," she said, but in her heart, she felt a small, warm feeling.  
  
"Taking over in Charms is our very own Rubeus Hagrid, who says he really does know what he's doing. Everyone will report to Pink Umbrellas 101 in the morning," said Dumbledore. "And of course, we now need a new Head of House for Hufflepuff. I am pleased to announce, in his first teaching position after his incredible career thus far..."  
  
Everyone looked fascinated.   
  
Thom stopped digging through his collection of B movies.   
  
Glen finished giggling with Hannah.   
  
Rene didn't mope with his falcon.   
  
Sharon absent-mindedly fed herself the anchovie she was holding.   
  
Buffie didn't even notice.   
  
Mynta and Cho stopped hugging and crying and sharing embarrassing family stories.   
  
Della ended her daily Adoration Of The Seamonkeys.   
  
Bree smacked Draco and both of them shut up.  
  
Liana looked anxiously at the Headmaster, praying that the Head would be someone kind.  
  
It was almost as if time had stood still, everyone had become so unmoving.  
  
"The incredible Mr. Wood," finished Dumbledore.  
  
A/N: So, d'ya like it? Review or we won't write any more and you won't find out what happens! Please reaview, pleasepleasePLEAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSEEEEEEEE.......  
  
Della and Bree 


	5. Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie

Liana looked up. Her emerald green eyes were shining with delight. This "incredible Mr. Wood" looked very kind to her. He seemed as though he was the perfect human, standing so tall and graceful.  
  
From the Gryffindor table, a boy with red hair yelled out, "Wrong house, Ol!"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as he went on. "Mr. Oliver Wood, a graduate of Hogwarts two years past, was not a Hufflepuff. You are correct, Mr. Weasley. However, his loyalty to Hogwarts in these dark times and his willingness to teach you children has touched me. He will be head of the Hufflepuff house."  
  
Oliver Wood stood up then. "If I may, Headmaster?"  
  
"Of course, Oliver."  
  
"I'd just like to say that I'm happy to be here teaching flying lessons. Madame Hooch will definitely be missed by us all, of course. I would also like to say that I will not follow her example and attempt to drink ten bottles of vodka straight just for a bet. I realize that doing so is dangerous and life-threatening."  
  
He paused a moment and continued. "I'd also like to thank Professor Dumbledore for allowing me to teach flying to everyone, even with my injury." He indicated his right eye, which was grey and sightless in comparison to the rich warmth of his brown left eye. "I will work as hard as I can to teach you all well. Thank you."  
  
"Well," said Dumbledore. "Off to bed with all of you. For a special treat, I've had the sla--houselves set a lemon drop on each of your pillows. Enjoy!"  
  
They all went to bed then and slept happily, each dreaming of different happy things...except for one.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*DREAM ACTION!!!!!!!*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The room was dark and cold and completely made of stone. The dreary atmosphere that our dreamer saw contained two others who seemed to be ignoring him.  
  
"Hello, darling," a voice hissed. "Where are you, you wicked traitor?"  
  
"I'm not a traitor," a girl's voice replied. There was a hint of a whimper in her voice. "I was never on your side."  
  
Our dreamer was shocked for a moment when light flooded the room. The hissing man was not a man at all--or at least, he didn't look like one. He had a scaly face without a nose. The girl looked blurry...she was blonde, and that was all that our dreamer could discern about her.  
  
Suddenly, a sound like a gunshot ricocheted through the room. In one corner, there were two figures surrounded by smoke. One was on their knees...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*END DREAM ACTION!!!!!!!*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Rene woke up in his bed. His long hair was draped in clumps around his sweating face and he was breathing very hard. "What was that?" he whispered quietly.  
  
He stood shakily and whistled quietly for Apollinaire, who landed on his shoulder, careful not to gouge his shoulder. While he knew he looked absolutely ridiculous in his daisy boxers, but he thought that perhaps those would help him sleep. They WERE his lucky boxers, after all. He grabbed them from the bottom of his underwear drawer, where no one would notice them. Praying that none of his roommates would wake up, he quickly switched from his black silk boxers to the cotton daisy ones.  
  
Feeling much more comfortable, Rene sighed. "You can go, Linners," he told his falcon. "I'll be all right, and your talons are NOT comfortable when I don't have a shirt on."  
  
Linners flew over to his perch and fell asleep. Rene looked at him jealously. All of a sudden, Dexter McSmart-Smart, the guy who slept next to Rene, shifted as though he might wake up. Rene jumped. No one must see him, especially when he was wearing nothing but boxers with daisies on them!  
  
Rene dashed into the closet, but he needn't have bothered. Dexter just turned over in his sleep and muttered something about Pythagorean triangles in bikinis.  
  
In the closet, Rene noticed how dark it was. He took out his wand, a 12 1/2 inch cherrywood wand with the core of a salamander heartstring, and whispered, almost inaudibly, "Lumos." There was just enough light to see that there was nothing in the closet. He wondered why briefly until he noticed that he was wrong.  
  
There was a key. Rene picked it up. It was an old key, but it was shiny...reeeaaaallllyyy shiny. Rene was fond of shiny things. It was also sharp, as far as old keys that are randomly left in closets go. Rene was fond of sharp things. The wall was bare. Rene wasn't fond of bare things.  
  
He picked up the key and began to carve into the wall of the closet, his dark eyes gleaming in an unnatural sort of way........  
  
In the morning, Dexter McSmart-Smart and his friends, Flanny MacFlanflan and Dirk Dirkson woke up to find that freaky kid with the girly hair gone. They looked everywhere--under the beds, in all the closets, on top of the beds. That freaky kid just disappeared.  
  
However, when Flanny opened his closet to grab a school uniform. There wasn't anything in there except for a key. And some scratches on the far wall. They were hard to read from so far away. Flanny walked into the closet, only to have the door shut on him. He didn't notice and just lit the closet up with his wand so that he could read the scratches. They said:  
  
"The darkness surrounds me  
  
It's eating at me  
  
Help!  
  
Help!  
  
Save me! Please!  
  
It's Rene! Save Rene!  
  
Where am I?  
  
The night-worm is gnawing on my foot  
  
My hand is gone  
  
How am I writing this?  
  
Where did the key go?  
  
AUGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!"  
  
"That's strange," said Flanny. He turned to leave the closet and decided to wear the uniform he wore yesterday. Linking arms with Dexter and Dirk, they left the room.  
  
"So, did you find anything interesting in your closet?" asked Dirk.  
  
"No," replied Flanny. "Just some strange poetry that was carved in the back of it. I never noticed that before. I wonder where that freaky kid with the falcon went."  
  
Dexter shrugged, and they all forgot about it upon smelling the yummy, yummy smells of breakfast.  
  
A/N: So, what'd you think? Rene's disappeared...it's getting darker now. The rating will be PG-13 in upcoming chapters now, so beware! And as always, review or feel the wrath! Have a nice day!  
  
Della Diaz and Bree Jones 


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